[THE following unadorned narrative, the reminiscence of a friend, Igive as if related by him from whom I received it. He was, in earlyyears, the apprentice of a tradesman, in whose family the principalincidents occurred. The picture presented is one of every-day life.]
MR. WILLIAMS, to whom, when a boy, I was apprenticed to learn theart and mystery by which he supported a pretty large family, was notrich, although, by industry and economy, he had gathered together afew thousand dollars, and owned, besides, two or three neat littlehouses, the aggregate annual rent of which was something like sixhundred dollars. His wife, a weak-minded woman, however, consideredhim independent, in regard to wealth, and valued herselfaccordingly. Few held their heads higher, or trode the pavement witha statelier step than Mrs. Williams.
An elder sister, greatly her superior in every quality of mind, hadbeen far less fortunate in her marriage. She was the wife of a man,who, instead of increasing his worldly goods, the fruit of sometwenty years' prudence and industry, had become dissipated, and atthe time now referred to, was sinking rapidly, and bearing hisfamily, of course, down with him. All energy seemed lost, and thoughhis family was steadily increasing, he grew more and more carelessevery day.
He spent much time in taverns, and wasted there a good deal ofmoney, that his family needed. Mrs. Haller, his wife, was, as hasbeen said, in intelligence and feeling, much the superior of Mrs.Williams, but appeared to little advantage in her peculiarsituation. She was the elder sister, by four or five years. At thetime of which I am now writing, Mrs. Haller had five children, twoof them grown up, and the rest small. Her husband had become soindolent and sottish, that all her exertions were needed to keep herlittle flock from suffering with cold and hunger. No woman couldhave laboured more untiringly than she did, but it was labouringagainst a strong current that bore her little bark slowly, butsurely backward. Here, then, are the two sisters; one, the elder,and superior in all the endowments of head and heart--the other withfew claims to estimation other than those afforded by a competenceof worldly goods. Let us view them a little closer. Perhaps we canread a lesson in their mutual conduct that will not soon beforgotten.
In earlier years, I have learned, that they were much attached toeach other. In their father's house, they knew no cares, and whenthey married, which was within a few years of each other, theirprospects were equal for future happiness. While this equalityexisted, their intercourse was uninterrupted and affectionate. But,as Mr. Haller began to neglect his family, the cloud that settledupon the brow of his poor wife was not pleasant for Mrs. Williams tolook upon. Nor were the complaints that a full heart too oftenforced to the lips, at all agreeable to her ears. Naturally proudand selfish, these two feelings had been gaining strength with theprogress of years, and were now so confirmed, that even towards anonly sister in changed circumstances they remained in full activity.
When I first went to live with Mr. Williams, Mrs. Haller resided ina neatly furnished, small two-story brick house. Her husband had notthen shown his vagabond propensities very distinctly, though hespent in his family, and otherwise, all that he earned each week,thus leaving nothing for a rainy day. He was a little in debt, too,but not so much as to make him feel uneasy. Mrs. Haller was anxiousto lay up something, and to be getting ahead in the world, and was,consequently, always troubled because things never got any better.She came to our house every week, and Mr. Williams would visit heronce in a month or two. Mrs. Haller often talked of her troubles toher sister, who used then to sympathize with her, and make manysuggestions of means to gender things more accordant with herdesires. As matters gradually grew worse in the progress of time,and Mrs. Haller began to make rather an indifferent appearance, themanner of her sister became evidently constrained andunsympathizing. She began to look upon her in the light of a "poorrelation." Her children, cousins of course to Mrs. Williams's, werenot treated encouragingly when they came to our house, and ifcompany happened to be there, they were kept out of sight, or senthome. Mrs. Williams rarely visited Mrs. Haller--not so often as oncein six months.
Long before the period of which I am now writing, Haller had becomedrunken and very lazy. Their comfortable house and furniture hadbeen changed for poor rooms, with little in them, except what wasbarely necessary. The oldest child, a son, about nineteen years ofage, on to whose maturity the mother had often looked with a livelyhope, following the example of his father, had become idle anddissipated; spending most of his time in low taverns andgambling-shops. Here was a keen sorrow which no heart but a mother'scan understand. Oh, what a darkening of all the dreams of earlyyears! When a warm-hearted girl, looking into the pleasant futurewith a tremulous joy, she stood beside her chosen one at the altar,how little did she dream of the shadows and darkness that were tofall upon her path! And alas! how little does many a careless girl,who gives herself away, thoughtlessly, to a young man of unformedcharacter, dream of the sorrow too deep for tears that awaits her.Surely this were anguish enough,--and surely it called for thesustaining sympathy of friends. But the friend of her early years,the sister in whose arms, in the days of innocent childhood, she hadslept peacefully, now turned from her coldly, and even repulsively.
So unnatural and revolting seems the picture I am drawing, even inits dim outlines, that I turn from it myself, half-resolved to leaveit unfinished. But many reasons, stronger than feeling, urge me tocomplete my task with the imperfect skill I possess, and I take thepencil which I had laid down in shame and disgust, and proceed tofill up more distinctly.
I had observed for some time the growing coolness of Mrs. Williamstowards her unfortunate sister, and had noted more than once thedeep dejection of Mrs. Haller's manner, whenever she went away fromour house. She began to come less and less frequently, and herchildren at still more remote intervals. Things became desperatewith her at length, and she came, forced by necessity, to seek alittle aid and comfort in her sorrow from her once kind sister, andwith the faint hope that some relief would be offered. I was sittingin the neatly furnished breakfast-room, one evening, a little aftertea, reading a book, when Mrs Haller came in. She had on a darkcalico dress, faded, but clean, a rusty shawl that had once beenblack, and a bonnet that Mrs. Williams's kitchen-servant would nothave worn. My eye instinctively glanced to the face of Mrs. Williamsas she entered; it had at once contracted into a cold and forbiddingexpression. She neither rose from her chair, nor asked Mrs. Hallerto take one, greeting her only with a chilling "well, Sally." Thelatter naturally sought a chair, and waited silently, and surelywith an aching heart, for a kinder manifestation of sisterly regard.I immediately left the room; but learned afterwards enough of theinterview to make it distinct to the imagination of the reader.
The sisters sat silent for some moments, the one vainly trying tokeep down the struggling anguish of a stricken heart, and the other,half-angry at the intrusion, endeavouring to fashion a form ofgreeting that should convey her real impressions, without beingverbally committed. At length the latter said, half-kindly,half-repulsively:--
"Why, Sally, what has brought you so far from home, after dark?"
"Nothing very particular. Only I thought I would like to drop in alittle while and see how you all did. Besides, little Thomas issick, and I wanted to get a few herbs from you, as you always keepthem."
"What kind of herbs do you want?"
"Only a few sprigs of balm, and some woodbitney."
"Kitty"--bawled out this unfeeling woman to the servant in thekitchen--"go up into the garret and bring me a handful of balm andwoodbitney--and don't stay all night!"
"No, ma'am," said Kitty, thinking the last part of the order mostrequiring a reply.
A further pause of a few minutes ensued, when Mrs. Haller, afteralmost struggling to keep silence, at length ventured to say, sadly,and despondingly, that she should have to move again.
"And what, in the name of heaven, Sally, are you going to move againfor? You can't be suited much better."
"Nor much worse, either, Mary. But John has paid no rent, and wecan't stay any longer. The landlord has ordered us to leave by nextWednesday, or he will throw our few things into the street."
"Well, I declare, there is always something occurring with you toworry my mind. Why do you constantly harass me with your troubles? Ihave enough at home in my own family to perplex me, without beingmade to bear your burdens. I never trouble you with my grievances,or anybody else, and do not think it kind in you to make me feel badevery time you come here. I declare, I grow nervous whenever I seeyou!"
Poor Mrs. Haller, already bending beneath her burden, found thisadding a weight that made it past calm endurance, and she burst intotears, and sobbed aloud. But not the slightest impression did thisexhibition of sorrow make upon Mrs. Williams. She even reproachedher with unbecoming weakness.
Although her sister had before shown indifference and greatcoolness, yet never had she spoken thus unkindly. In a few momentsMrs. Haller regained her calmness, and with it came back some of herformer pride of feeling. For a moment she sat with her eyes castupon the floor, endeavouring to keep down her struggling emotions;in the next she rose up, and looking her sister fixedly in the face,read her this impressive lesson.
"Mary, I could not have dreamed of such harshness from you! I havethought you cold and indifferent, long; but I tried hard to believethat you were not unkind. I have never come to see you in the lastthree years, that I did not go away sad in spirit. There wassomething in your manner that seemed to say that you thought mypresence irksome, and as you were the only friend I had to speak toabout my wearying cares and anxieties, it grieved me more than I cantell to think that that only friend was growing cold--and thatfriend a sister! As things have become worse with me, your mannerhas grown colder, and now you have spoken out distinctly, anddestroyed the little resting place I sometimes sought when weariedto faintness. Mary, may God who has afflicted me, grant you ahappier lot in the future! May you never know the anguish of one whosees a once idolized husband become a brute--her children growing upworthless under the dreadful example of their father, and all oftenwanting food to sustain nature! You have everything you desire. Ihave not the necessaries of life. We were born of the same mother,and nursed at the same bosom. We played together in childhood,--onceI saved your life. And now, because our ways are different; yourseven and flowery, and mine rough and thorny, you turn from me, asfrom an importunate beggar. Mary, we shall meet our father andmother at the bar of God!"
Thus saying, Mrs. Haller turned slowly away, and left the housebefore her sister, who was startled at this unexpected appeal, couldsufficiently collect her senses to reply. Her real errand, or,rather, her principal errand to the house of Mrs. Williams, had beento ask for some food for her children. It was many weeks since herhusband had contributed a single dollar towards the daily familyexpenses, and all the burden of their support devolved upon the wifeand mother. Night and day, in pain, and exhaustion of body and mind,had she toiled to get food for those who looked up to her, but allher efforts were inadequate. Like thousands of others, when a girl,she had acquired an education that was more ornamental than useful.The consequence was, that she had no ready means of earning money.The wants of a family of children, had, it is true, given her someskill with her needle, but not of a kind that would enable her toearn much by sewing.
She did, however, at first try what she could do by working for thecheap clothing-stores. But twelve-and-a-half cents a pair forpantaloons, ten cents for vests, and eight cents for shirts, yieldedso little, that she was driven to something else. That somethingelse was the washtub; over which, and the ironing-table, she toiledearly and late, often ready to sink to the floor from exhaustion.
Of this, she said nothing to Mrs. Williams, who would have beenterribly mortified at the idea of her sister, taking in washing fora support. The labour of one pair of hands in the wash-tub, was,however, unequal to the task of providing food for seven mouths,even of a very poor quality. Consequently, Mrs. Haller found thewants of her family pressing, every day, harder and harder upon theslender means by which they were supplied. Often, when she carriedhome her work, there was no food in the house, and often did shework half the night, so as to be able to take her clothes home earlyon the next day, and get the money she had earned to meet that day'swants.
Among those for whom she washed and ironed, was a woman in goodcircumstances, who never paid her anything until she asked for it,and then the money came with an air of reluctance. Of course, sheapplied to her for her hard earnings, only when pressed bynecessity. On the morning before the interview with her sister, justdetailed, Mrs. Haller found herself nearly out of everything, andwith not a cent in the world. The woman just alluded to, owed hertwo dollars, and she had nearly completed another week's washing forher, which would make the amount due her two dollars and a half. Atdinner-time, every mouthful of food, and that a scanty portion, wasconsumed, and there would be nothing for supper, or breakfast, onthe next morning, unless Mrs. Hamil should pay her. It was nearlynight when she finished ironing the last piece. Hurriedly putting onher things, after sending two of her children with the clothes in abasket, she joined them as they were about entering the dwelling ofMrs. Hamil.
Her heart beat, audibly to her own ear, as she went in, and asked tosee the woman for whom she had been labouring. Although, heretofore,whenever she had asked for her money, she had received it, sometimeswith reluctance, it is true, yet her extremity being now so great,she trembled lest, from some cause, she should not be able to getthe pittance due her.
For a few moments she sat in the kitchen hesitating to ask for Mrs.Hamil, after the clothes had been given to the servant. When she diddo so, she was told that she was engaged and could not be seen.
"Ask her, then, for me, if you please," she said, "to send me adollar. I want it very much."
The servant went up and delivered her message, and in a few momentscame back with the answer, that Mrs. Hamil was engaged, and couldnot attend to such matters;--that she could step in on the next day,and get her money.
The words fell coldly upon her feelings, and oppressed her with afaint sickness. Then she got up slowly from her chair, hesitated amoment, took one or two steps towards the door, and then pausing,said to the servant,
"Go up and tell Mrs. Hamil, that I am sorry to trouble her, but thatI want the money very much, and that if she will send it down to me,she will confer a very great favour, indeed."
"I had rather not," the servant replied. "She didn't appear pleasedat my going up the first time. And I am sure she will be lesspleased if I go again."
"But you do not know how much I am in want of this money, Jane--"and the poor woman's voice quivered.
"Well, Mrs. Haller, I will try again," the kind-hearted girl said,"but I can't promise to be successful. Mrs. Hamil is very queersometimes."
In a few minutes Jane returned with a positive refusal. Mrs. Hamilcouldn't and wouldn't be troubled in that way.
In a state of half-conscious, dreamy wretchedness, did Mrs. Hallerturn her steps slowly homewards. The shadows of evening were fallingthickly around, adding a deeper gloom to her feelings.
"O, mother! I'm glad you've come. I'm so hungry!" cried one of herlittle ones, springing to her side as she entered. "Won't we havesupper soon, now?"
This was too much for her, and she sank exhausted and almostfainting into a chair. Tears soon brought temporary relief to anoverburdened heart. Then she soothed her hungry little ones as wellas she could, promising them a good supper before they went to bed.
"But why can't we have it now?" urged one, more impatient, or morehungry, than the rest.
"Because mother hasn't got any good bread for little Henry--" shereplied--"But she will have some soon. So all be good children, andwait until mother goes out and gets some bread and meat, and then wewill all have a nice supper."
After quieting the importunities of her children in this way, andsoothing little Thomas, who was sick and fretful, Mrs. Haller againleft them, and bent her steps, with a reluctant spirit, towards thecomfortable dwelling of her sister, nearly a mile away from whereshe lived. The interview with that sister has already been given.
When she turned away, as has been seen, empty-handed, from the doorof that sister, it was with feelings that few can imagine. It seemedto her as if she were forsaken both of earth and heaven. How she gothome, she hardly knew, but when she entered that cheerless place shefound her poor sick child, for whom she had no money to buymedicine, burning with fever, and crying bitterly. Her brutalhusband was snoring on the bed the smaller children quarrellingamong themselves, and her oldest boy, half-intoxicated, leaning overthe back of a chair, and swinging his body backward and forward inthe idiocy of drunkenness. As she entered, the childrencrowded round her, asking fretfully for their suppers; but nothinghad she to give them, for she had come away empty-handed andrepulsed from the door of her affluent sister, to whose dwelling shehad gone solely to ask for some food for her children! In themomentary energy of despair she roused her husband rudely from thebed, and bade him, in an excited tone, to go and get some bread forthe children: The brute, angered by her words and manner, struck hera blow upon the head, which brought her senseless to the floor.
An hour at least passed before she recovered her senses; when sheopened her eyes, she found herself on a bed, her sister sitting byher side, weeping, and Mr. Williams standing over her. Her husbandwas not there, some of the children were crying about the room, andothers had fallen asleep on the floor. The oldest boy was sitting inthe position before-mentioned. Brief explanations were made, andMrs. Williams offered a faint apology for her harsh treatment. Theappeal of her sister had touched her feelings, and she had proposedto Mr. Williams to go over and see her. On entering her dwellingthey found her senseless on the floor, and the children screamingaround her. The husband was not there.
As soon as the mother's voice was heard by the smallest child, alittle girl, she climbed up the side of the bed, and simply, andearnestly, in lisping tones, asked for a "piece of bread." The poorwoman burst into tears, and turned her head away from her child.Mrs. Williams went to the closet, saying--"Come, Emma, I will getyou some bread. "The little thing was at her side in a moment. Butthe search there was in vain.
"Where is the bread, Sally?" she asked.
"There is none in the house," faintly murmured the almostbroken-hearted mother.
"Good heavens!" said Mr. Williams--"you are not without food,surely?"
"We have tasted nothing to-day," was the startling reply.
"Where is Mr. Haller?"
"I know not--he left the house a short time ago."
"He ran out when he struck you, mother," spoke up the little childwho had asked for the bread.
Mr. and Mrs. Williams looked at each other for some moments insilence.
"Get a basket and come with me, John," said Mr. Williams, to theoldest boy, who was gazing on with indifference or stupidity.
Mechanically he took a basket and followed his uncle. They soonreturned with bread, dried meat, ham, &c., and in a brief space, acomfortable meal was prepared for the starving family.
Conscience felt about the heart of Mrs. Williams that night, withtouches of pain, and she repented of her cruel neglect, and unkindtreatment of her sister. She dreamed not of the extent of herdestitution and misery--simply, because she had refused to makeherself acquainted with her real condition. Now that the sad realityhad been forced upon her almost unwilling eyes, a few returningimpulses of nature demanded relief for her suffering sister.
Mr. Williams, whose benevolent feelings were easily excited, wasshocked at the scene before him, and blamed himself severely for nothaving earlier become acquainted with Mrs. Haller's condition. Heimmediately set about devising means of relief. Haller had become soworthless that he despaired of making him do anything for hisfamily. He therefore invited his sister-in-law to come home to ourhouse, and bring her two youngest girls with her. The rest wereprovided with places. The family had grown pretty large, and shecould assist in sewing, &c., and thus render a service, and livecomfortably. Mrs. Williams seconded the proposition, though not withmuch cordiality; she could not, however, make any objections.
We look at the sisters now in a different relation. The superior independence on the inferior. Can any for a moment question theresult?
It was not without a struggle that poor Mrs. Haller consented todisband her little family--and virtually to divorce herself from herhusband. No matter how cruel the latter had been, nor how deplorablethe condition of the former, her heart still retained its householdaffections, and would not consent willingly to have her little flockscattered-perhaps for ever. But stern necessity knows no law. In duetime, with little Emma, and Emily, Mrs. Haller was assigned acomfortable room over the kitchen, and became a member of ourfamily. All of us in the shop felt for her a warm interest, buthesitated not to express among ourselves a regret that she could dono better than to trust herself and little ones to the tendermercies of a sister, whom we knew too well to respect.
At first, Mrs. Haller was employed in needle-work, but as she wasneither a very fast nor neat sewer, her sister soon found it betterpolicy to let her do the chamber-work, and sometimes assist incooking. For about three months, her situation was comfortable,except that her children were required to act "just so," and weredriven about and scolded if they ventured to amuse themselves in theyard, or anywhere in the sight or hearing of their aunt. Her ownchildren were indulged in almost everything, but her little nieceswere required to be as staid and circumspect as grown-up women.After about six months had elapsed, Mrs. Williams began to findfault with her sister for various trifles, and to be petulant andunkind in manner towards her. This thing was not done right, and theother thing was neglected. If she sat down for half an hour to sewfor herself or children, something would be said or hinted to woundher, and make her feel that she was viewed by her sister in no otherlight than that of a hired servant.
Something occurring to make the kitchen-servant leave her place,Mrs. Haller cooked and attended in her situation until another couldbe obtained. There was, however, no effort made to procure another;week after week passed away, and still all the menial employments ofthe house and the hard duties of the kitchen fell upon Mrs. Haller.From her place at the first table, where she sat for a short timeafter she came into the house, she was assigned one with us. To allthese changes she was not indifferent. She felt them keenly. Butwhat could she do? Unfortunately for her, she had been so raised (astoo many of our poor, proud, fashionable girls are now raised) as tobe almost helpless when thrown upon her own resources. She wasindustrious, and saving; but understood nothing about getting aliving. Therefore, she felt that endurance was her only presentcourse. It was grievous to the heart to be trampled upon by a sisterwhose condition was above her's; but as that sister had offered heran asylum, when in the utmost destitution, she resolved tobear patiently the burden she imposed upon her.
It was now tacitly understood between the sisters that Sally was tobe kitchen-servant to the other. And as a servant she was treated.When company were at the house, she was not to know them or sit downin the parlour with them. Her little ones were required to keepthemselves out of the family sitting-room, and Mrs. Williams'schildren taught, not by words, but by actions, to look upon them asinferiors. From confinement, and being constantly checked in theoutburst of their feelings, they soon began to look much worse thanthey did when first taken from their comfortless abode. Theyoungest, a quiet child, might usually be found sitting on a littlestool by her mother in the kitchen, playing with some trifling toy;but the other was a wild little witch, who was determined to obey noarbitrary laws of her aunt's enacting. There was no part of thehouse that she did not consider neutral ground. Now she would beplaying with her little cousins in the breakfast-room, or in some ofthe chambers, and now clambering over the shop-board among the boysand journeymen. All liked her but Mrs. Williams, and to her she wasa thorn in the flesh, because she set at defiance all herrestrictions. This was a cause of much trouble to Mrs. Haller, whosaw that the final result would be a separation from one or both ofher children. The only reason that weighed with her and caused herto remain in her unpleasant and degraded situation, was the ardentdesire she felt to keep her two youngest children with her. Shecould not trust them to the tender mercies of strangers. Deepdistress and abject poverty had not blunted a single maternalfeeling, and her heart yearned for her babes with an increasedanxiety and tenderness as the chances every day appeared less infavour of her retaining them with her. One had nearly grown up, andwas a sorrow and an anguish to her heart. Two others, quite young,were bound out, and but one of them had found a kind guardian. Andnow, one of the two that remained she feared would have to beremoved from her.
One day, her sister called her into the sitting-room, where shefound a lady of no very prepossessing appearance.
"Sally," said she, "this is Mrs. Tompkins. She has seen Emily, andwould like to have her very much. You, of course, have no objectionsto getting so good a place for Emily. How soon can you get her readyto go? Mrs. Tompkins would like to have her by the first of nextweek."
Thus, without a moment's warning, the dreaded blow fell upon her.She murmured a faint assent, named an early day, and retired. Shecould not resist the will of her sister, for she was a dependant.
In the disposition of other people's children, we can be governed bywhat we call rational considerations; but when called upon to partwith our own helpless offspring, how differently do we estimatecircumstances! Every day we hear some one saying, "Why don't she putout her children?"--and, "Why don't she put out her children? Theywill be much better off." And perhaps these children are but eight,nine, and ten years old. Mother! father! whoever you may be, imagineyour own children, of that tender age, among strangers as servants(for that is the capacity of children who are thus put out) requiredto be, in all respects, as prudent, as industrious, as renouncing oflittle recreations and pleasures as men and women, and subject tosevere punishments for all childish faults and weaknesses, such asyou would have borne with and gently corrected. Don't draw parallelsbetween your own and poor people's children, as if they were to beless regarded than yours. Even as your heart yearns over and loveswith unspeakable tenderness your offspring, does the mother, nomatter how poor her condition, yearn over and love her children--andwhen they are removed from under her protecting wing, she feels askeen a sorrow as would rend your heart, were the children of yourtenderest care and fondest love, taken from you and placed amongstrangers.
In due time, Emily was put out to Mrs. Tompkins, a woman who hadwonderful fine notions about rearing up children so as to make menand women of them, (than her own, there were not a more gracelessset in the whole city.) She had never been able to carry into fullpractice her admirable theories in regard to the education ofchildren among her own hopefuls; because--first: Johnny was a verydelicate boy, and to have governed him by strict rules, would havebeen to have ruined his constitution. She had never dared to breakhim of screaming by conquering him, in a single instance, becausethe rupture of a blood-vessel would doubtless have been theconsequence, or a fit in which he might have died. Once indeed shedid try to force him to give up his will, but he grew black in theface from passion, and she had hard work to recover him--after thishe was humoured in everything. And Tommy was a high-spirited andgenerous fellow, and it would have been a pity to warp his finedisposition. Years of discretion would make him a splendid specimenof perfect manhood. Angelina, (a forward, pert little minx,) was,from her birth, so gentle, so amiable, so affectionate, that nogovernment was necessary--and Victorine was so naturallyhigh-tempered, that her mother guarded against the developement ofanger by never allowing her to be crossed in anything.
In Emily, Mrs. Tompkins supposed she had found a fine subject onwhich to demonstrate her theories. A wilful, spoiled child, she was,eleven years of age, and needed curbing, and in a few days Mrs.Tompkins found it necessary to exercise her prerogative. Emily was,of course, put right to work, so soon as she came into the house.Her first employment was to sweep up the breakfast-room, after themaid had removed the breakfast-things and placed back the table. Shehad never handled a broom, and was, of course, very awkward. Withthis awkwardness, Mrs. Tompkins had no patience, and once or twicetook the broom from her hand, and directed her how to hold and useit, in a high tone, and half-angry manner. In due course she gotthrough this duty; and then was directed to rock the cradle, whileMrs. Tompkins went through her chamber and made herself look alittle tidy. Sitting still a whole hour was a terrible trial toEmily's patience, but she made out to stick at her post until Mrs.Tompkins re-appeared. She was then sent into the cellar to bring upthree or four armfuls of wood, and immediately after to the grocer'sfor a pound of soap, then to the milliner's with a band-box. Whenshe returned, it was about eleven o'clock, and she was set to helpone of the servants wash the windows, which were taken out of theframes and washed in the yard. This occupied until twelve. Then shemust rock the cradle again, which she did until one o'clock, when itwaked, and she had to sit on a little chair and hold it, while thefamily dined. Her own dinner was afterwards put on a plate, and shemade to stand by the kitchen-table and eat it. All the afternoon wastaken up in some employment or other, and as soon as supper was over(which she eat, as before, standing at the kitchen-table) she wassent to bed--and glad she was to get there, for she was so tired shecould hardly stand up.
The next day passed in the same unrelaxing round of duties, and thethird commenced in a similar way. The little thing had by this timebecome almost sick from such constant confinement and extra labourfor one of her strength. She was set, on this day, to scrub down apair of back stairs, a task to which she was unequal. Before she hadgot down to the third step, she accidentally upset the basin andflooded the whole stair-case--dashing the dirty-water in the face ofMrs. Tompkins who was just coming up. She was a good dealfrightened, for Mrs. Tompkins had shown so much anger towards her ondifferent occasions in the last three days, and had once threatenedto correct her, that she feared punishment would follow theaccident. A slight box on the ear was indeed administered. Tremblingfrom head to foot with fear, and weakness, for the child was by nomeans well, she brought up another basin of water, and commencedscouring the steps again. By some strange fatality, the basin wasagain upset, and unfortunately fell in the face of Mrs. Tompkinsagain. A cruel chastisement followed, with a set of leather thongs,upon the poor child's bare back and shoulders.
That night the child came home to her mother, and gave a history ofher treatment. Her lacerated back was sufficient evidence howcruelly she had been punished. The little thing was in a high fever,and moaned and talked in her sleep all night.
Finding that the child was not sent back in the morning, Mrs.Williams wished to know the reason, and was told the real conditionof Emily.
"She's a bad child, Sally, and has no doubt deserved a whipping! Youhave spoiled your older children by mistaken kindness, and willspoil the rest. But I can tell you very distinctly that I am notgoing to be a party in this matter, and will not consent that Emilystay here any longer. So, if you don't send her back to Mrs.Tompkins, you may get her a place somewhere else, for after thisweek she shall not stay here. She has almost ruined my Clara, now!"
To this, poor Mrs. Haller made no reply. Her home at our house hadonly been endured because there she thought she could keep her babeswith her. She left the presence of her unfeeling sister, and beganto study how she could manage to support herself and two children byher own unaided exertions. Many plans were suggested to her mind,but none seemed to promise success. At length she resolved to rent asmall room, and put into it a bed, a table, and a few chairs, withsome other necessary articles which she still had, and then buy somekind of vegetables with about five dollars that were due her, and goto market as a huckster! Let not the sentimental and romantic turnaway in disgust. When humanity is reduced to a last resource, be itwhat it may, the heart endures pains, and doubts, and fears of alike character, whether the resource be that offered to a noblelady, or a lonely widow.
Before Saturday night, Mrs. Haller had found a room near the marketthat just suited her, which she rented at two dollars a month withthe use of the cellar. When she made known to Mrs. Williams herintention of leaving her house, and told her how she intended tomake a living, the latter was almost speechless with surprise.
"Surely, Sally," said she, "you cannot be in earnest?"
"Indeed I am in earnest, though?"
"But consider the disgrace it will be to your family."
"Nothing is disgraceful that is honest."
"I never will consent to your being a huckster:--Sally! if you do sodisgrace yourself as to stand in the market and sell potatoes andcabbages, I will disown you! You have a comfortable home here, andwhere then is the use of your exposing yourself in themarket-house?"
"You will not let Emily stay here with me, and I cannot part with mypoor babes." A flood of tears burst forth, even though she struggledhard to conceal them.
"You are very weak and foolish, Sally. Emily will be much betteroff, away from you. She is growing up a spoiled child, and needsother care than yours. You are too indulgent."
"In any case, Mary, I am determined to keep these children with me.I know that it is not pleasant for you to have them here, and Idon't want to have them in your way. The best thing I can do is thatwhich I have determined on."
"If you will go, why not take in sewing, or washing and ironing?"
"Simply, because I cannot make a living with my needle, and myhealth will not permit me to stand over the wash-tub from morningtill night. There is no resource left me but the market-house,reluctantly as I go there."
"Well, Sally, you can do as you please. But let me tell you, that ifyou do turn huckster, I will never own you as my sister again."
"Any such foolish and rash resolution on your part, I should regretvery much; for, unkindly and unfeelingly as you have acted towardsme, I have no wish to dissolve the tie of nature."
"It shall be dissolved, you may rely upon it, if you do sodisgraceful a thing."
On Saturday she got what was due to her, and on Monday removed toher new abode. Of all this, Mr. Williams had not the slightestknowledge. After getting her room fixed up, she went down to thewharf and bought a few bushels of potatoes, and some apples: withthese she went to the market. Her feelings in thus exposing herself,can only be imagined by such as have had to resort to a similarmethod of obtaining a livelihood, when they first appeared in themarket-house. She had not been long at her stand, when Mr. Williams,who generally went to market, came unexpectedly upon her.
"Why, Sally, what in the world are you doing here?" was hissurprised salutation.
"Why, didn't you know that I had left your house for themarket-house?"
"No! How should I know You never told me that you were going.
"But surely sister did?"
"Indeed she did not."
"She knew last week that I was going, and that I had determined tomake a living for myself and children in this way."
"I am sorry you left our house, Sally! You should have had a homethere as long as I lived. You must not stay here, anyhow. Somethingbetter can be done for you. Surely you and Mary have notquarrelled?"
"She has renounced me for ever!"
Mr. Williams was a good deal shocked by this unexpected interview,and when he went home inquired into the state of affairs. Hecensured his wife severely for her part in the matter, upon her ownstatement; and told her plainly that she had not treated Sally as asister should have been treated. He went to see Mrs. Haller thatday, and used many arguments to induce her to come back, or at leastto give up her newly-adopted calling.
"Put me in a better and more comfortable way of making a living, Mr.Williams," was her answer--"and I will most gladly adopt it. I knowof no other that will suit me. I cannot longer remain dependent. Inyour house I was dependent, and daily and hourly I was made to feelthat dependence, in the most galling manner."
By her first day's efforts in the market-house, Mrs. Haller earnedthree-quarters of a dollar, with which she bought food for herselfand children, and re-invested the original amount. On the next day,as on the first, she disposed of her whole stock, and was sofortunate in her sales as to clear one dollar. On the next day shedid not sell more than half of her little stock, and cleared onlythirty-seven-and-a-half cents on that. Greatly discouraged she wenthome at twelve o'clock, and was still further cast down at findingher husband there, come to take up his lodgings, and eat up hermeagre earnings from her children. She remonstrated against hiscoming back, but with drunken oath and cruel threats he let her knowthat he should stay there in spite of her. Before night, her oldestson, a worthless vagabond, also made his appearance, and betweenthem swept off all the food, that she had bought with the profits onher five dollars, which she had resolved from the first not tobreak. On the next morning she cleared a full dollar, and onSaturday, another. But her increased family prevented her adding acent of the profits to her original capital. After the market onSaturday morning, she went out and bought about three dollars worthof eggs, at ten cents a dozen, which, before night, she sold attwelve-and-a-half cents, thus clearing twenty-five cents on thedollar, or three-quarters of a dollar in all. With a dollar andthree-quarters that she had made that day, she laid in a supply ofcommon and substantial food.
On Sunday she went, as was her custom, to church, and took her twolittle girls with her. Her husband and son remained at home. Whenshe returned from service they were gone; instinctively turning towhere she had concealed her little treasure, of five dollars, shefound that it had also disappeared! She knew well how to account forits loss. Her husband and son had robbed her! The little hope thathad animated her breast for the last few days, gave way, and shesunk down into a condition of mind that was almost despair. Towardsevening, her husband and son came home drunk, and lay all nightstupid. In the morning, they stole off by day-light, and she wasleft alone with her little ones, to brood over her melancholyprospect. She could not, of course, go to market, for she hadnothing to sell, nor anything with which to purchase a little stock.
Mr. Williams, who felt a lively interest in her case, especially onaccount of the unkind treatment she had received from his wife, usedto stop and inquire into her prospects whenever he saw her in themarket, and had been looking round for something better for her todo. Missing her this morning, he went to her house, and there foundher in a state of complete despondency. He encouraged her in thebest way he could, but did not advance her another little capital,which he would willingly have done under other circumstances, andthen went away, determined to get her some situation which would bemore suitable for one of her habits and feelings.
Not an hour after he learned that a head nurse was much wanted atthe alms-house. He made immediate application for her, and was happyin securing the place. It was at once offered to her, and sheaccepted it with gladness, especially as she would be allowed tobring her two children with her. In due time, she removed to her newabode, and soon won the good-will and kind consideration of theBoard of Trustees, and the affectionate regards of those to whoseafflictions she was called to minister. Her two little girls wereeducated at the alms-house school, and grew up amiable, intelligent,and industrious. Of her other children, I never knew much.
Mrs. Williams seemed to think the situation of her sister at thealms-house, almost as disgraceful as her place in the market. Shenever renewed a communication with her. Even up to the hour whenMrs. Haller was called to her final account, which was many yearsafter, her sister neither saw nor spoke to her.
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * * * *